Change is Bad
by The Smiling Crow
Summary: At the end of "The Butterfinger Effect", what if Space Kid didn't put his helmet on in time… what if Max, too, was affected by… The Change! Funny/Parody Halloween horror One-Shot for October.


**AN: In honor of a Full Moon on October 13th, I wrote this in an evening after having the snippet idea earlier this month.**

**Imagine this One Shot with the Dramatic Music (TM) for werewolf transformations.  
**

* * *

"What I'm trying to say is… not all change is bad. It's important to keep in mind that whether you're a space kid, race kid, or… whatever Neil is…"

People backed away from the savage former-science-kid nervously as he tore into a T-Bone steak.

"Regardless of who we are or who we become, we're all going to be friends… or in some cases, bearable acquaintances." Max finished, in his casual neutrality.

"That was… like, a lot, my dudes," Erid spoke, raising her fake axe in salute.

"A tremolo to my feels," Nerris said, trilling her glockenspiel.

"Change is important," Max agreed. "And it's okay… to… cha- chan…" He swallowed, suddenly feeling like his head was spinning and… not angry?

"Max? Are you okay?" Nikki asked, adjusting her plastic chemistry-glasses "Your epidermis is… clammy and pale."

"Y-yeah," He stammered. "I'm- urk!" He gasped as something like a heartbeat thumped through him… his entire _being_… his deep-rooted cynicism…

Under threat!

"Uh… I don't really care," Harrison said shrugging to fit his whole 'bad boy' routine, which was undercut by the slightly furrowed eyebrows, "But… I don't think clutching your heart like that is normal."

"I'm f- fi- fuck!" Max cried, as another beat thumped through him.

It was… something different.

Something wrong!

Something… something…

"Max? Are you… _smiling!?_"

"Wha-? WHAT?!" Max reached up to his cheeks and was horrified to feel them pulled back in a wide grin, and not his normal 'I'm gonna fuck up your day' grin…

"M-Max? What's going on with your hands?!"

He looked down and saw his hand was trembling uncontrollably. Another beat thumped through him and he fell to his knees as a bone-splintering ache started spreading through him like fire.

"AAAAAAARRRRRRGHHHHHH!" He screamed, as he felt his entire way of life, his entire mentality, his very _soul_ was under attack by something foreign!

"Max! What do we do?! I-I'll go get Gwen!" Nikki cried.

"N-no! NO!" Max shouted, haltingly. The fire hurt, his bones hurt, his cheeks hurt, his _everything_ hurt!

Then the shifting started.

He stared at his hands as they got… longer! His fingers creaking and cracking inch by inch until his hand was almost as big as a full-grown adults!

"What's… **haPpeNinG**?" Max's voice deepened strangely as he clawed his throat, his vocal chords feeling strained and stretched, like he'd swallowed his own adam's apple.

His back arched painfully as the spine lengthened, forcing the rest of his body to try to catch up. The seams of his blue hoodie tore as his arms doubled in length and chest swelled against the fabric. His pants held fast as his legs extended like sticks through the sleeves.

But the yellow Camp-Campbell shirt stayed intact.

Campers backed away, eyes wide in horror as their friend's form disfigured and morphed in front of them.

"IT'S THE BUTTERFINGER EFFECT!" Nurf wailed, dazedly flailing around with that stupid… that… _creative_ 'space helmet' on. WHAT WAS HAPPENING TO HIM?! WHERE THE FUCK WERE DID THAT THOUGHT COME FROM!?

"**URGH! N-NikKi… NeiL!**" He slurred with his unfamiliar skull structure and strained vocal chords. "**H-hELP MEEEEEEEEE!**"

His smile became forcibly prominent!

His floofy hair fell flat except for one cowlick tuft at the front!

His knees knobbled together on his tall, lanky figure.

His Camp-Campbell t-shirt was prominently and proudly displayed

His eyes took on a glint of…

_JOY!_

"**HoWDy, CAmpBeLL CAMpeRs!**"

* * *

"AAAUGGGGHHHH!"

Max threw off the covers to the cot in his tent, gasping for air. His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he came down from his jittery post-nightmare adrenaline.

He immediately took inventory of his body. Still tiny.

His hair? Gloriously floofy.

Hands? Normal-sized.

His… _smile_…

…

…

Max almost, _almost_, let a small smirk of relief on his face, but the lovely reunion with his bitter cynicism meant he wanted to stay as far away from anything remotely _like_ those emotions for now.

He sighed, easing into his pillow, too wound up to sleep, but frustratingly too exhausted to face the day.

Definitely the perfect time for coffee.

Perfect way to forget _everything_ about that fucked-up dream.

He swung his feet over the bed-

*crunch*

Startled, he looked down at the floor of his tent.

…

Horror.

Indescribable horror.

The entire area was covered with them!

The faces of his fellow campers looked up at him. Their faces barely discernible in the crunchy, bone-like structures, still dripping wet with the sticky mess.

For before him…

Lay…

… his friends and fellow campers' faces…

In **_macaroni-art_** form.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"

* * *

**AN: Happy Halloween!**


End file.
